Suppressed Memories
by DrgonRidngFaeryWitch
Summary: Canada convinces America to go see a shrink in hopes to get him to stop expressing himself violently. Hypnosis leads to him reliving suppressed memories about when he was young and still lived with England. Sequel to "Why Are You Acting So Weird?" But you can read this without going back for that by the way I'm writing it. WARNING: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT
1. Revelations

**Alright, I got the first chapter finished and yes, I've been nothing but lazy for a long time now! Surprisingly, I got this one done first instead of the Kanata one. Hopefully no one forgot about the story yet and I hope that you all enjoy this! I know I will! }:-D Mwa ha ha ha ha! I am SO going to Hell for this!**

This wasn't my idea to be here, it was Canada's. Apearantly I have "some issues that I need to talk about." And a therapist was the frozen hockey-nuts first choice. The dude's just saying that I'm crazy and that's really started to piss me off. No matter what excuse he puts on it like "I've been trying to help you open up and express your feelings in a non-violent way for years" or "It's healthier to just talk about your feelings instead of just blowing things up or invading other countries." Psh, whatever.

What was this guy doing anyways? All he's done in the past half hour I've been here is ask me how my day went and then started asking me how everything makes me "feel." And then writing down in his notebook everytime I talk. Is he playing tick-tack-toe with himself or something? Man, this guy is just irritating. He's not even listening to me! After telling him how I felt about how this stupid secion was going he just sat there calmly and started to write more down in his notebook.

"Do something interesting already!" I yelled at him. "What about hypnotizing me or show me those inkblot things that all look like butterflys or something! I'm going to die of bordom here!"

"Is that what you want to do?" he asked in that same calm voice that was giving me a headache and at the same time creeping me out. It was like he was Russia or something!

"Yes!" I shouted. "Anything! Just stop asking me how stuff makes me feel!"

"All right then," he said. I let out a sigh of releif until I saw that he had started writing in that damned notebook again. '_WHAT THE FUCK IS HE WRITING IN THAT?!'_

"Unfortunatelly," he said closing the notebook and setting it down in his lap. "I'm aftaid that I don't have any rorschach tests with me today. But we could try hypnosis if you really want to."

I raised an eyebrow to this. I was just joking about the whole hypnosis thing but what the hell? Why not? It was the only half-interesting thing I'd heard in this whole thing. "Cool, so how do we do this?" I asked. "I mean, I don't really believe in hypnosis or anything; but man, at least now I can tell people that someone tried to hypnotise me! This is gonna be awesome!"

He opened up his notebook one last time to scribble something down before he sat it on the table next to him. "Alright, lie down on the loveseat and take some deap breaths to try and relax," he told me. I got up from my chair and crossed the room to the loveseat that it seemed like all therapists had in their offices. When I sat down I realized that it was probably the most comfortable thing in the room. I layed my head back on the soft, plush cushion and closed my eyes as I started to take deep breaths. "Can you hypnotise me now?" I asked opening an eye after a few breaths.

He was only about two feet from the me with his notebook in his hand again. "How about trying to take ten deep breaths and I'll see if you need to take more," he told me. I did as he said and started counting. _'1.. .2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10. Hey, this _is _ pretty relaxing.'_ "Good," he said. I could hear more scribbling. "Now I want you to listen to what I'm going to say and just stay as calm as you can." His voice was sounding so smooth and level I was wondering if this guy wasn't a real therapist and Russia had sent him to me.

"You're floating," he said calmly. "And as you float longer, all the tention in your body is being washed away with the calm breeze around you." I could actually feel it. I was floating. I could feel the breeze. "You're surrounded by clouds. You're as light as a feather and you feel the wind is carrying you softly through them." _'How is this guy doing this?'_ "Are you relaxed Alfred?"

"Yes," I answered without meaning to.

"Good. Now take ten more deep breaths. With every one of these you will feel the last drops of stress and tension drip down and out of your body." _'One... two...'_ "The tension is draining out of your head and neck." _'Three... four...'_ "From your shoulders, chest, and upper arms." _'Five... six...'_ "Your forarms down to your fingertips and on through your back and down to your waist." _'Severn... eight...' _"Gone from your waist to your knees." _'Nine... ten...' _"And finally, your lower legs and down out from the souls of your feet and the tips of your toes."

I had never been this relaxed and stress free in my entire life. I was floating still and everything in the world was gone. Nothing else existed besides me, the clouds, and the breeze that was carrying me. "You are so relaxed that you don't want to move a single muscle in your body. Now Alfred, I want you to open your eyes in your mind and look at the clouds around you." I opened my imaginary eyes and saw that I was indeed floating through the sky. There was no ground underneath me, but a thick layer of clouds with no openings to the earth under them. The clouds seemed so plush and inviting.

"Alferd, there is a door in front of you. There is no peap hole or window on it. Only a red, wooden door with a brass knob and lock. " It appeared in front of me. A red door with only the knob and lock. I didn't know what was behind it. It seemed harmless enough but it was off-putting, such a huge, solid contrast to the clouds around and under it. "How does this door seem to you Alfred? Is it inviting?"

"No," I said automatically. "I don't know what's behind it. Something important might be behind it but I don't know what it is. I want to know but.." I trailed off not knowing what to say. "I feel like I've seen what's behind it before but I don't remember; the door or what's behind it." More scribbling noise.

"Open the door, Alfred." I reached over and took hold of the knob but it wouldn't turn.

"It's locked," I told him.

"Just as I thought," he said in reply. "Reach into your pocket, Alfred. The key is in there." It was. It was a large key but not one like people had today. It was old; the end was bolky with two rectangles that hung off of it. It looked like it weighed about a pound but it was as light as I felt. I insurted the key into the lock and turned it until I heard and felt a loud click from the mechanism.

"It fits," I told him.

"Good. Behind the door is something imporant, Alfred; something that you forgot over the years. Now open the door, Alfred. See what it is that you've forgoten."

I opened the door and I was struck dumb by what I saw.

Standing only a few feet from the now opened door I saw myself. My younger self. I couldn't have been more than 60 at the time but I looked about 3 maybe 4. My younger self was facing away from me-towards something that was slowly resurfacing in my mind as I watched it.

In front of me was England. He sat on his old bed that he had when we still lived together. The covers were pulled up over his legs but they didn't cover what needed to be covered. I never thought I'd see this-nor did I want to. He sat on his bed with some kind of lube dripping down his hand as he masterbated.

That wasn't what shocked me the most though. Oh no. The worst was that through the moans and pants he let out into the open air above him, he was saying my name. Over and over-getting louder each time.

He took a half-glance to the doorway that I stood in beofre turning back. After only half a moment did his face turn to one of shock and I thought that he must have seen me standing there in front of the world of clouds behind me.

"Enwand?" my younger self asked. He stood stalk-still for a second before rushing to cover himself. "What are you doing?"

"N-nothing!," he almost shouted in panic.

My younger self cocked his head to the side innocently. "Your lieing," he said simply. He crossed his arms and stuck out his bottom lip stubbornly.

In that moment, something in England's deminore changed. I couldn't put my finger on it but it was almost like he was more relaxed now. "All right then," he said. "You've caught me. Come up here and I'll tell you."

He spoke with slured words like he'd been drinking. I suddenly smelled that there was a wauffed stench of cheap beer in the room as I saw the blonde child try to climb onto the bed. England seemed impatiant though and grabbed hold of my nightshift to jank me onto the bed. The small child landed head-first and the gown had floan up to reviele a distinct lack of underclothes.

"Take off your clothes," England rassped harshly. The child sat up and looked confused.

"Why," he asked.

"Do you want to find out or not," the elder hissed through clenched teeth. The younger looked frightened by this.

"Maybe I should just go back to bed," he said easing his way back to the bedside. _'Yes! For the love of God get out of this room!'_ England wasn't having it though. He grabbed hold of the childs' arm and flung him underneath him so that he hovered drunkenly over him. He screamed from the pain in his arm but England either didn't hear it or didn't care.

He planted a sloppy, rough kiss on his lips before starting to trail them up and down his tiny body. He didn't even bother to take the clothing off but instead grabbed hold of the front with both hands and ripped it open. He bit down harshly into his neck. The frail child screamed out again from the new pain being inflicted.

As the poor, naked colony started to cry, England reached down a hand and started to jerk himself off while trailing lower with his kisses a short way to wrap his lips around the tiny limp member. He was a child! A child that had blood coming from his neck! That was being molested! That was begging and pleading for this to stop happening to him! _'But... the kid is me...'_ I was frozen.

England let go of the todlers extremities with a loud _'pop.'_ He crained his head up to the child's ear and started to whisper but I could hear his every raspy word as clear as day. "If you do as I tell you, I'll stop being so rough." I let out a simultanious shudder with my smaller self as I felt his breath on the shell of my ear as well.

"O-ok," he studdered out in a voice that seemed high-pitched and broken even for a child. Tears were rolling down his face from red, puffy eyes. After that everything that I saw was like being in one of those 4D movie theaters. You know, the ones where the chairs move with the screen and air is blown in your face to make it feel like you're experienceing everything that's in the movie.

But I could feel everything that he was doing to the child.

I felt it when he kissed the smaller me.

I gagged when I felt the tongue being forced down his windpipe.

My scalp ach when his hair was pulled and felt the sickening pressure in my hands when he made the younger me touch him. I could feel the wet precum coat my hands. I felt his hands over mine as he made me tighten my grip.

I gagged again and felt my jaw ach when he forced me to give him a blowjob.

I felt the incredible pain as he stretched and prepared me and the worst pain of all... when he raped me.

_'England... raped me. He _raped_ me.'_

My own tears fell in time with my younger selves. This couldn't have happened. This was some kind of sick joke. When I get out of there I'm gonna beat the shit out of this fucked up therapist and demand an explaination.

"There's nothing to expain, Alfred," I heard his voice say. _'How can he hear what I'm thinking?!'_ "Because you're thinking out loud, Alfred," he answered me. "Turn around and walk out of the door, but don't lock it," he said. As I turned away I could feel the pressure in my backside as Englands shot his load inside me. I walked out the door and closed it behind me as the noise in the room had finally stopped.

I was in the world of clouds again now, but it seemed like they were mocking me more than comforting me. I wanted to leave. "You will, Alfred." My eyes started to sting from the tears. "I want you to count backwards from 10-slowly. With every number the breaze will faid along with the clouds around you and you will feel more aware of your surroundings." _'10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1.'_

I opened my eyes to find that everything I saw was fuzzy and I had to blink away some of the still-remaining tears before I could see that I was back in the therapy room on the loveseat. The tears on my face were real. The man known as Dr. Samson Johnson sat beside me with a tissue offered in my direction. I ignored it. I lifted Texas from my eyes long enough to wipe my face with the sleave of my jacket before putting the lenses back in place, standing, and walked out the door to the office without saying anything else to Dr. Johnson.

**Yep, I'm definatly going to Hell. Then again, I knew that when I wrote the prequil to this so no surprise there!**

**And there wasn't really anything bad in here that you guys didn't read in that. Tell me what you think about how the first chapter went in the reviews and tell me what direction you think I should go in with it because unless I get some kind of motivation from readers, this will NEVER get more chapters and I have something morbidly horrible in mind to do that all you sickos like me will love.**

**Also, I don't have any spellcheck so if you guys could tell me if I messed up somewhere that would be great! I'm good with constructive criticism so say whatever you like in the comments! Even if you don't like the story go ahead and tell me how you feel! (P.S. It might just incourage me!)**

**The idea I have on how to take this story is kinda short to be honest so give me some ideas for more chapters too! Also I'm finishing this chapter at 1:42a.m. and I'm tired as **_**fuck**_**.**


	2. White Dyed Red

**Finally, second chapter it done. It's 11:17 pm. I need to get a regualar sleep scedule for the weekends. **

**I'd just like to thank all of you for the feedback I got from the first chapter. I really appreciate that you guys liked it and I hope this next chapter pleases you. **

Alfred's POV~

I was finally alone now. I wanted to be alone. I wanted to be so alone that I wouldn't even be here. I guess that's why there's so much blood on the floor now. Not that I'd die from it or anything... sadly.

When I left the office the first thing I did was stop in the bathroom to put to waste some McGrittles and hashbrowns I'd had for breakfast. My stomuch was still doing backflips. When I got in my car I ignored the speedlimit and some stoplights when I didn't see any cops around. I don't care about the tickets; I needed to go somewhere, anywhere.

I drove home on autopilot. BIG mistake; when I got home I only felt worse. I couldn't even look to the door to Iggy's old room. Originally, when I was really young there was nothing but an old cabin on this land that he had built and over time we had it torn down and built the huge house I live in now. That didn't matter though; _HE_ used to live there; here, in_ MY _house.

Canada was here when I got back. He was sitting in the living room probably watching a hockey game or something, not that I bothered to look. He got up and followed me when he saw me come in and started interrogating me about the secion. Down the hall, up the stairs, and he probably would've followed me into the bathroom if I hadn't slammed the door in his face and locked it.

Whatever, I wouldn't be in this situation right now if he hadn't made me go to Dr. Johnson in the first place. He stayed at the door for a while and kept asking questions. I didn't know how long it was before he left but I didn't care. I couldn't hear most of what he said over the shower running anyway. I must have been in there over an hour scrubbing myself raw and dryheaving before I turned off the long-gone-freezing water. I could still feel it though; the kissing, touching, biting, the pain. _'I wonder if I have any iron wool under the sink.'_

When I looked in the semi-fogged mirror I thought I saw one of the ghosts from the movies that scare the holy shit out of me so much. I didn't freak out though; I didn't even flinch but when I looked a moment longer I realized that I was looking at myself. I was papery white and covered in red streaks and sploches all over from rubbed, raw skin and places where the skin had actually broken and blood was starting to prick. My eyes were sunken in like a zombies but even theirs seemed more lively than mine were right now. They were empty and dead besides all the pain that I felt. Physically and emotionally, both from betrayed trust.

I didn't know if there was iron wool under there or not but I didn't bother noticing anything else other than something I hadn't used in a long time. A butterfly knife. You guys can probably tell what I use it for by the dried blood I couldn't get out from in the edge of the hilt. I pulled it out of it's hiding place wedged between the pipes and looked at myself in the mirror again to see those dead, alien eyes staring back at me one more time.

I remembered the last time I'd used it. It was after a world meeting when I'd heard people making jokes about me in the bathroom. I was in one of the stalls purging for the tenth time that day even though I hadn't eaten anyhting. They didn't notice because I had decided to sit and catch my breath before the break was over and I had to listen to Germany yelling at us again. I was so dizzy that I couldn't even tell who had told the joke or what exactly the words were to it, but I remember hearing the words "America" and "fat slob" and maybe something about heart desease.

After that I called in sick for the rest of the day and came home to slit my wrists again. It would never kill me but I would pass out and rest peacefully for a time without nightmares, unlike when I tried to sleep. Before I passed out the last time, I put the knife back in its hiding spot and when I woke up I was strapped to my bed with Tony next to me saying that he was done with me acting the way I was.

He kept me there for two weeks with tubes going in and out of my body. When I'd eventually given up on convincing him to let me go he told me that some of the tubes were for feeding me and another for carrying away waist. He pointed to one in particular that he said was taking out my blood to be put through a machine that would filter in more nutrients before going back in. It was weird. But after that I couldn't move around too well after lying down for two weeks straight. Tony had me do at-home rehab to get my muscles back to working right.

He had to take care of me for about a month after that and that was probably his plan all along. He told me how stupid I was being and that I was going to end up killing myself, nation or not. Over the time there was a lot of heart to heart talking and then me crying knowing that he was tho only person I could trust to see me cry and without feeling like I had to hold back. Eventually I started eating on my own again and I hadn't gone back on that since.

I felt disgusting now but not in the same way. This wasn't an eating disorder from being the blatent butt of everybodies fat jokes. The number one person that I'd looked to to pretect me from harm and take care of me when I was defencless had purposfully taken advantage of my innocence, nievity, and inability to stop him.

Now I wanted to die.

I stood naked in front of the medicine cabnet and held my hand over the sink while I made the cut. I used to do this straight across my wrists and a few at a time but now I ignored the old scared and placed the tip of the blade in the center over the vain and pulled it down my arm, following the blue line. The crimson dripped down and started to trickle into the sink. I sat the knife down and turned on the faucet to wash it away.

In a few minutes I felt woozy and decided to just sit for now. I wasn't even wearing a towl and the tiles were cold underneath me. I sat with my back against the door and closed my eyes as I felt the warm liquid run down my arm and trickle into my lap and onto the floor. _'Defeats the purpose of being in the shower only a few minutes ago.'_

I dozed in and out of contiousness for some time before opening my eyes again. The once white tiles were painted red and a pool had formed all around me and had stretched as far as to the U.S. flag bathroom rug next to the sink. Half of two of the white stripes were gone and blended with the red ones that once seperated them. _'Or is it four?'_ The world wouldn't hold still long enough for me to count without losing track.

_'When did I start lieing down?'_ My lap and side were both dyed along with the tiles underneath me. The blood was probably seeping under the door and into the hallway but I didn't really even think of that. I wasn't even aware that someone was banging on the door again until what must have been a while after it had started. The person was yelling something too. I strained to lock onto it.

"Damn it damn it damn it damn it!" they yelled. _'Tony?'_ He was trying to bang the door down now by the looks of it. _'Not again...'_ I couldn't even translate what he was saying but I wasn't going to open the door. "PLEASE! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD ALFRED! OPEN THE DOOR OR I'LL BREAK IT DOWN!" I was dozing again. "MOTHERFUCKER!" I heard him scream.

In the blured sound of the word, it sounded more like 'brotherfucker' and I felt foul tasing bile rise in the back of my throat even though I'd emptied myself completely already. I tried to lift myself up onto my elbows at least and crawl to the toilet but I just slipped in my own blood and fell on my face, biting my tongue in the process.

By the time the door was kicked in I was spewing up yellow gunk and more blood onto the floor. I felt him rush to my side and put a hand on my back screaming. "Mr. America! Alfred! Oh God..." _'That's weird, Tony's voice usually sounds higher than that.'_ I looked up at him as my vision was on its last thread. I couldn't even make out his pasty skin or big, red eyes. I did, however, make out brown hair and a pair of blue eyes. As I started to black out I thought of this only last minute. _'Wait, Tony doesn't have any hair...'_

**Yes, I know it's been a long time sense I posted last. No, it wasn't because I was busy; I was just being lazy (And trying to figure out what all I'm going to try to fit into this story). Tell me what you think should be in the next chapter or other future chapters and how this myserious person is going to handle America's atempted suicide or at least who you think it is (Everyone should know who it is).**

**I've been getting a lot of feedback from you guys lately and I probably wouldn't have even gotten halfway through with this if I hadn't so thank all of you so much again for reading this and taking the time to let me know what you think of the story and letting me know that you guys are actually reading it.**

**Remember, the more you bug me, the faster I write the next chapter and refrain from lazyness enough to make me un-American. (Sorry Alfred, I know I've put you through a lot lately, but you are lazy) **


	3. Lithuania Finds Out

**I'm starting to get good at posting regularly! At the same time, you guys shouldn't start expecting this. I'm still gonna write in acordance with reader responces so don't stop bugging me! And if you hate this story then just tell me and I'll use that as feul to write more just to discust you with my super fucked up mind.**

Alfred's POV~

_I felt cold. _Really_ cold. But then everything started to get warm, like opening the door to an airconditioned room during a heat wave. All of sudden, everything came into focus; I was waist-deep in hot water and my clothes were gone. _'My clothes were gone before but why am in water? Didn't I get out of the shower?'_ My hands were smaller than usual too. _

'What's going on?'_ I was surounded by metal walls and there was a tiny, toy boat floating in front of me. Some disterbance in the water made small waves that shoved it into me. When I looked up I saw what it was. It was _Him_. _He_ closed his eyes and sighed as _He_ relaxed in the water for a few moments. I wanted to leave. I wanted to get out of here and run as fast as I could but the walls of the what I now realized was a metal tub were too high for me to climb. _

_I was trapped._

_I clutched the boat between my hands and pushed it under the water slightly to try and cover myself when _He _opened his eyes and narrowed them at me like a starving dog does with a steak. _He _reached over and grabbed hold of me but no matter how much I ordered my body to it wouldn't ever _try_ to fight back. _He_ sat me in his lap with his erection being the only thing between us._

_I clutched the little boat tighter to me and unintentionally bumped my elbow against the leaking shaft. _He_ let out a slight groan and before I knew it there was a splash of water over my head and it went into my eyes and mouth. I tried to spit it out and rub it out of my eyes but this gave him full oportunity to slick soapy hands down my small body._

_I tried to scream but nothing would come. I tried to tell him to stop, to let go of me, to stop _touching_ me. Soon it turned into begs and pleads and then I started crying. _'Why won't _He_ stop? Why was _He_ doing this? What did I do to _Him_?'

Lithuania's POV~

I was thinking over everything that had happened. _'Why would he do this to himself?'_ He left this morning around 0900 hours saying that he was going to an appointment that his brother had set up for him. He didn't seem happy about it though. On the contrary, he had been livid with Mr. Canada about it. He didn't tell me what it was about though.

I was busy making refreshments for Mr. Canada and Mr. Kumajiro when I heard him come in close to 1100 hours. I could hear Mr. Canada trying to talk to him about the appointment but there was no answer in return for his questions. Then a door slammed and Mr. Canada came back downstairs into the living room.

I went to greet him a few minutes later to offer him a cup of coffee and some home made pasteries. He already had his coat on and was about to leave but he asked if I could put the coffee into a to-go cup for him. He himself had a few appointments to atend to and couldn't stay much longer or he would be late. I gave him the to-go cup and made a doggybag of the pastries for him.

He said his thanks and told me that Mr. America was in the bathroom and that he was taking a shower. At the time I thought that it was very odd; Mr. America usually took a shower right after he woke up and would'nt usually bathe more frequently than once a day.

Mr. America and I weren't exactly roommates like him and Mr. Tony, but he and I were at least good aquantances. He had let me stay with him while I did work for him and he would pay me. It was more of a housekeeping position to be honest and sense he would never even bother to do ANY housework at all I would usually be spending nights at his home in the guest room that he said I could have.

In short, Mr. America would do many things that were ordered of him by his boss and when he would have his time off he wouldn't want to do any work of any kind at all. I couldn't blame him or really understand his position completely; he would always have much more work that his boss told him to do than me sense he is a world power and I am not. He would pay me generously for my work and over time we had become some type of comfortable aquantences.

I had seen him in his highs and lows but he would never really talk too much about them with me. Mr. Tony was usually his "rock" in tough situations. I would be there though, and right now with Mr. Tony gone to visit his home planet for a few weeks I would have to be there for him now more than ever.

When I was doing laundery I never expected to see blood seeping from under the bathroom door. It had pooled across the hardwood floor and stained the long hallway rug an almost black-red. My heart had nearly stopped at the sight of it and I dropped the basket of clean clothes emediately and tried to open the door but found it locked. I banged on it and started yelling, asking Mr. America if he was alright. _'Of course he wasn't alright; there was too much blood for anyone to be alright, nation or not.' _

After a bit of screaming I kept trying the door and decided to try and break the door knob to get in. It was too solid and in my panic and frustration I had started to curse like I never had before. In my inner terror I let the formalities between us slip, sometimes not even calling his just plain "America" but using his human name.

When I heard weight shift around the door I had yelled at him that if he didn't let me in I would break down the door to save him. When I got no response and found that the door was still locked I got angery at him and used a word that I'd heard him say many times before. I had never let it reach my lips before but I had screamed it at him before taking a step back and kicking the door in.

What I saw I was not ready for; on the floor in a large pool of his own blood lay Mr. America without a stitch of clothing on him. His arm had a single cut going from his wrist almost to his elbow, his skin was raw and cut in certain places by his own fingernails by the looks of them. He was coughing up a mixture of yellow vomit and blood and there were tears streaming down his face.

When I went to help him I don't think he recognized me; he seemed to be fading in and out of contiousness. After only a few seconds, his eyes closed and his body went limp. I had gotten a towel and wrapped it around his arm and held the pressure to stop the bleeding, only stopping to call an ambulance. They arived quickly and I rode in the back with him to the hospital.

Once there they had taken him to the ER and stopped the bleeding before sending him to a room. They had put him into a medical gown and a nurse had given me some scrubs to put on sense my clothes were covered in blood. Now I sat at his bedside alone, waiting for him to wake up. I had called Mr. Canada to tell him that his brother was in the hospital but he didn't answer so I had to leave a messege.

The nurses had put a hot compress on him to get his temperature back to normal and he was hooked up to many machines along with a blood transfution. They said that they would moniter him for the first few hours very closely and that he would need many more transutions. When I saw his temperature on the machines I couldn't beleive it and felt his forhead to find it freezing. 72°F. He felt much colder than that. As cold as the dead.

I had been sitting by his side for over an hour, leaving a few more messeges for Mr. Canada, when he began to stur in his sleep. His face was scrunched up as if he was in distress, trapped in some nightnare. As quickly as his movements started, they turned frantic. He flung his arms around trying to break free from some invisable assailant. He screamed in his sleep.

"STOP IT! STOP IT! LET GO!" he screamed.

I tried to wake him but couldn't get too close without being hit. He was _really_ strong. Eventually I managed to grab hold of his wrists and hold him down.

"PLEASE LET GO!" he started to cry. Tears slid down his face in his sleep. "STOP TOUCHING ME! STOP TOUCHING ME!"

"MR. AMERICA!" I yelled, shaking him.

His eyes flew open and he shoved me off of him and onto the floor. When I looked up he was cowering on the back of the bad and threw the hot compress off of him, shaking. Our eyes locked for a moment before he looked away. In those eyes though, I could tell that what I was suspecting was true.

His eyes used to show his carefree deminore, but now they were filled with terror. His words only moments ago bounced back in my head. I could tell he would probably never tell me on his own with his pride, fear, or who knows what else but it was as plain as day and a heartbreaking thing to see.

The strong and mighty America, Alfred F. Jones had been raped.

**Okay, before you guys jump to conclutions, this story is NOT shipping AmeriLiet. If you want to read that, you'll have to go to another story. I basicly wrote all but one paragragh in one sitting so you guys should be happy because I did this for you!**

**I'm not gonna go on and on with nagging you guys like I did last time but just remeber, if you want more, I need to hear from you. Otherwise, I'm gonna asume no one wants to read this anymore and I'll give it to someone else to finish. And yes, I will end almost all chapters with at least a little bit of a cliff hanger just to irritate you. ^w^**


	4. A Trip To The Hospital

**Now I know what you're going to say: "What took you so long?!" Well I have a good explaination. Valentines Day. That and I've been burried in school projects lately including an after school book club that I started. I hope you guys like what I came up with though; everytime I got on to write more I changed my mind on what to put next and this is what I got.**

**And don't forget to review! Because from now on if I don't get at least 5 on every chapter I post I won't put up a new one. Enjoy!**

Alfred's POV~

When I opened my eyes and saw someone trying to hold me down I flipped. I didn't want anyone touching me! Not now, not ever again, and deffinatly _not_ after that dream! _'I'm not supposed to dream when I pass out like that. I never have before. Why now of all times? Why _that_ of all things?'_

I jumped to the back of the bed that I was lieing on and realized that weight was still on me. When I looked down at myself I saw that it was some kind of compress that was draped over me. I threw it to the ground like the person that was on top of me earlier and when cold air hit me I realized that it was what had made me so hot.

I was shaking by the time that I looked at the person I had thrown off of me and locked eyes with them for just a moment before looking away. _'It's just Lithuania.'_ But I was unnurved by the look in his eyes, like he was scared. He wasn't scared for himself though, he was scared for me. Anytime someone was afraid for me I would tell them that I was fine and I'd tell myself that I was fine but I couldn't lie to myself at least, not now; I was pretty far from being fine.

The cold air was hiting my legs and moving upwards like I was wearing a dress or something. Don't ask how I know what it feels like to wear a dress; my excuse: I was drunk. I looked around myself franticly trying to figure out where I was. _ 'I'm not tied to the bed so Tony probably dosen't know yet but what is that beeping sound?'_

I turned around to find that there was a heart monitor in the room. The sound from it though was long and unending. _'I can hear the blood rushing in my ears and this thing is trying to tell me that I'm dead?... Am I dead?'_

Lithuania's POV~

He looked at me before looking away and then around him, probably trying to figure out where he was.

"It is alright Mr. America," I told him as calmly as I could. "You are in the hospital, everything is going to be alright." He kept staring at the heart monitor screan that had taken on a long endless tone. I picked up the tiny monitor that had fallen off of his finger in his struggle and moved to return it to its place. He flinched and tried to push himself further back on the bed when I moved in his direction.

I moved slowly trying not to startle him again when a few nurses rushed into the room. They had a male nurse behind them rolling in a high-powered defibrillator. Obviously they were very paniced until they saw that he was awake. "No need to worry," I told them holding up the monitor for them to see. "Just an accedent."

The nurses looked visibly more calm and as the male nurse rolled back down the hall I could hear Mr. America lefting out a breath that I didn't know he'd been holding. Out of the nurses stepped a doctor in a white coat and a stethescope hanging from around her neck. The rest of the nurses quickly cleared out of the room and Mr. America somewhat reluctantly sunk back onto the bed.

"Alright," she said stepping forward and taking the clipbaord from his bed. "First things first," she took the monitor from my hand and placed it back onto Mr. America's finger and the monitor let out a rhythmatic beep that at moment seemed a bit fast. "Those things fall off all the time but they still give me a headache."

She started looking through the papers on the clipboard with a frown on her face at what she saw. "Mr. Jones, you've lost a lot of blood. We've already given you a transfution and you'll probably need to stay the night here so that we can monitor you and I want you to take it easy for a while; we don't need you ripping your stitches."

While she was explaining things, it seemed like he was still trying to let things sink in. He looked at the things that she had mentioned: the transfution hanging next to him, the way that it ran from a tube into his arm, and the opposite arm that was stitched up and rapped in medical bandages.

When she had finished what she was saying for the moment and taking another look at the papers Mr. America took this moment to speak for the first time. "Take out the needle," he said holding his good hand out to her.

"What?," she said, shocked.

"Take out the needle," he repeated. He half turned to me but kept his eyes on the floor. "Toris, go back to my place and grab some clothes for me. I want out of here as soon as possible."

I, too, was in shock. '_How can Mr. America think that he could just go home after all of this?'_ The doctor said it herself: "you've lost a lot of blood", "stay the night here so that we can monitor you", "I want you to take it easy for a while".

The way his boss is, as long as Mr. America wasn't in a hospital he would get burried in work. I'd seen him go days on end without sleep because of the work that he needed to get done and if he goes home now then he's just going to end up back here again in no time.

"No," she said plainly. "I'm not going to help you kill yourself and if you think that you can just walk out of here after that then you've got another thing coming." She became louder and louder with every word and by the end she looked angry.

When I looked back to Mr. America I expected to see greater anger than her's but instead I saw his once child-like eyes filled with tears of what looked like frustration. He didn't even seem like he was breathing anymore! The heart monitor was going insane. When he looked like he had finally calmed himself enough to speek he said: "My bosses are the government. If you don't let me out of here then one phonecall to them _will._"

I was ready to scream at him! To tell him how childish and stupid and DANGEROUS he was being! But I stood there and I watched as I waited for there next moves. The doctor looked like she was going to rip his head off in a moment. "You're not alowd to use that hospital phones besides the payphones outside and you're not leaving this room. Only personel can use the staff phones and that's to call you're family or whoever is writen down as emergancy contact for you." For someone speaking to their patients, she sounded as if she was trying to spit venom in every word.

He turned in my direction again without looking at me. "Toris, give me your phone." I jumped hearing my name; I didn't want to be a part of this conversation! There were deffinately only two sides here in both of their minds: Stay here against his wishes or go home and possibley drop dead the moment he takes a step outside the hospital doors. He needed to stay there in the hospital. The only reason he had for wanting to go home was so that he could be left alone to try and kill himself again.

I know what I had to do and what I had to say to him. _'This is going to end badly for me in the long run isn't it?'_ I opened my mouth to speak when there came a flash of white at the doorway. "Alfred!" it screamed. On closer inspection, I realized that it was Mr. Canada. He came running into the room as fast as he could wearing dripping-wet snow gear and wrapped his arms around his brother in a moment, terribly startling him before pushing the Canadian off of him. He took no mind of this though.

"What happened!?" he screamed lowder than I had ever heard him (which was about the volume of regular speaking). At this moment I heard the door slam close and all but Mr. Canada turned to find that it was Mr. Kumajiro who looked out of breath. A few seconds later there were sounds of hospital personel running down the halls and past the door. _'They must have been chasing him.'_ A polar bear in a hospital is unusual, and there was no doubt that they didn't allow non-service animals there.

After a few moments of listening to the panic in the hallways the doctor finally turned to Mr. Canada and took him by the arm. "I'll explain what I can after I can varify that you two are family," she said professionally. _'For someone who is supposed to make people better she is awfully cold to people.'_

"We're brothers," they said simultaniously; Mr. America sounding apithetic yet slightly annoyed and Mr. Canada still frantic.

"Alright. Mr. Jones was brought here by ambulance around 1 pm because of a 911 call. When he arrived he had already lost a significant amount of blood; we stopped the blooding, stitched him up, and put him in here to rest with a transfution. It's a merical that he's still alive," she told him in a much-too-professional voice. Mr. Canada seemed to calm down a little but not completely.

By the end of her little speach we looked past Mr. Canada to Mr. America as if to say something when he suddenly hung up a cell phone that had a red maple leaf on it. "Hope you don't mind that I borrowed your phone dude," he said nonchalantly. "I'll be out of here in about 5 minutes tops. Now you can either take out the needle or I'll do it myself."

Before she could open her mouth to speak again a few men in black suits with sunglasses barged into the room carrying a paper bag with them. An obviously upset nurse came into the room telling them that they can't do this. They ignored her, shoving their way past people to Mr. America and handing him the bag before almost ransacking the room as if they were looking for something.

After they were finished they stepped in front of Mr. America before soluting him. "The room is sicure," one said. _'Are these some of the "secret service" I've heard about?'_ If they were then they were more terrifying than I'd thought.

"Good," he said to them without looking up, like he'd done to everyone but the doctor. "Everyone out so I can change."

The strange men ended their solute and proceeded to throw everyone out of the hospital room, ignoring the extremely loud protest. In all of the shouting I could see Mr. Canada begin to panic even more as he heard the doctor and nurse screaming that if he was left alone by himself he would try to atempt suicide again. I silently prayed that they weren't right.

**I hope you guys liked it! I've already started the next chapter but remember that if I don't get at least 5 reviews, you will never see it.**

**Tell me anything; ideas about things you want in the next chapter or later on in the story, where you think I should go with this new developement, when more people are going to start bugging America on what happened, and what I really want to know is what you guys think America should do about Lithuania now.**

**By the way, Lady Morgan of Sealand was the first to get the basic idea of who it was that found America in the last chapter and hanareader was the first one to guess that it was him.**


End file.
